Chapter Text
---Simon---
Simon sighed heavily and shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. They had been on Erid for almost two years, now, and he still wasn't sure what he and Ryland were to each other. Friends, certainly. You don't survive that many near-death experiences together without becoming friends. Roommates, obviously. It had seemed silly to ask the Eridians for separate houses when they spent most of their time together anyway. Really, they only separated when Grace was teaching or in the lab, or when Simon was in the greenhouse or his studio. But that only added up to a few hours a day. The rest of the time, they might as well be attached at the hip, with Rocky and Adrian just as close, as often as was practical.
But Simon would be lying if he said he didn't want … more. He wasn't even sure what more meant to him. Kissing? Maybe. Cuddling? Most definitely. Sex was obviously off the table, though, and that was where he was struggling. Would Ryland want sex? And if he did, would he be okay with not getting it from Simon? Because as much as Simon wanted to touch every part of Ryland Grace, the idea of going any further than that made him … almost queasy, in a way. Genitals were just… gross. Not in the Puritanical way that Eden would have wanted him to believe. He wasn't concerned that genitals (holy tree, why did the word have to sound so … descriptive? Ick) were somehow going to send him to hell, or anything. They were even fine to look at - just another part of the human body that everyone had. But the idea of touching that (whichever shape that might be - he was just as grossed out by all of it)? Of that touching him. He shuddered. Yeah. No. That was off the table.
The problem was, Simon had zero idea how to tell if Ryland was even interested in him, romantically. And he hadn't quite figured out how to ask, or otherwise find out. He had considered asking Adrian - they and Rocky had been together for ages, and their relationship had survived decades of separation. They would probably give fantastic advice. But they told Rocky everything, and Rocky told Grace everything. Telling Adrian about his dilemma would be tantamount to straight up telling Ryland, but with more steps.
He sighed again. Romance had never been an option on Eden. That was doubly true in prison. And honestly, Simon had been fine with that. He had been too busy surviving to even think about love. While his Brothers had been sneaking around, finding ways to steal intimate moments, Simon had just… not done that. And until he met Ryland, he'd never even stopped to wonder why.
But then, Ryland was unlike anyone he'd known in his universe, or dimension, or reality, or timeline, or whatever. Ryland had soft, gentle hands, and a kind, generous heart. He was brave, even if he didn't believe it. He was so smart about science and teaching and children and so many other things that it was hard to believe how utterly stupid he was about people and relationships. Or taking care of himself. Or managing his short temper.
No, Ryland wasn't perfect. But then, that's part of what Simon loved about him. After all, Simon was no angel himself. If Grace hadn't had his faults, Simon wouldn't have trusted him. Maybe that was fucked up, but it was true. Simon adored Ryland precisely because he was flawed, and annoying, and arrogant, and stubborn, and real.
If only he could figure out a way to tell him that.
Simon growled at himself. Sitting here overthinking his angst like some teenager wasn't going to solve the problem. It was time to do some research.
Picking up his tablet, he pulled up the search bar and typed in "romantic movies", and began scrolling through the results.
Near the top was one called 10 Things I Hate About You. That title didn't sound romantic at all, but Simon was intrigued. He pulled out his notebook and pencil, started the movie, and began taking notes.
He was going to figure this out.
---Grace---
Grace was confused.
That wasn't unusual. He was a scientist. Science is all about being confused, and then doing experiments or research to learn enough to be confused in entirely new ways. But this wasn't something his usual scientific method was helping with.
He was confused about Simon, and humans don't like when you think about them as science experiments. He'd learned that the hard way with Linda. He'd told Rocky that she'd left him because he had his head in the clouds. He hadn't told him that she was also extremely creeped out when she found his notebook full of psychological experiments he'd been running on her to try to figure out how to make her love him. Apparently, that was extremely weird, and manipulative, and creepy. She'd used that word a lot in their fight. Rocky might hate Mark, but Linda absolutely hated Ryland.
Currently, though, he was confused about why his roommate/friend/whatever was only speaking to him in Korean. At least, he assumed it was Korean. Simon spoke a few languages, but what he was speaking now didn't sound like Ilyukhina's Russian, or Stratt's German, and it definitely wasn't Latin or English, so it had to be Korean. Probably. Grace was rubbish with languages.
Five days ago, out of the blue, Simon had gifted Ryland with a small pot filled with dirt and a tiny sprout. Simon said it was Rosemary, and would grow into a lovely little bush that they could take cuttings from for spicing food. According to Simon, it would smell fantastic, and add a savory undertone to the me-meat.
Grace had looked at Simon blankly, not understanding why he would give him an obligation as a gift. Plants took work to keep alive. Grace could barely remember to take care of himself. And frankly, he was just no good with plants. He tried. He really did. But he had once killed a cactus by not watering it enough. A plant designed to survive in the dryest climate on earth. And he'd killed it through forgetfulness.
Eventually, Grace had forced a smile, said thank you, and put the plant on the windowsill above the sink. And then promptly forgot that it existed. This morning, he'd noticed the sprout had wilted and looked dead, and had secretly sighed in relief. At least this one had died quickly. Maybe Simon would get that Grace just couldn't do plants, and leave it alone.
But instead, Simon had found the pot in the trash and launched into a long rant. In Korean.
"야, 그레이스. 이게 왜 쓰레기통에 들어가 있어?"[1], Simon asked, holding up the plant.
"I have no idea what you're saying, but I threw the plant away because it's dead. I'm just no good with plants. I appreciate the gift, but …"
Simon cut him off, "아이고, 이 사랑스러운 바보야. 이거 안 죽었어. 네가 물을 안 줘서 죽어 가는 거잖아."[2] He pulled the pot from the trash and began filling the sink with water, until it was about two inches deep, and set the pot in it. He turned and pointed a finger aggressively in Grace's face, "건드리지 마." [3]
Grace stared at Simon, mouth open, trying to process what was happening. "I.. what?" he stammered. "I have no idea what you're saying, Simon. Help me out here."
Simon's face grew stern, "건드리지 말라고. 나 뛰러 갈 거야. 사랑하긴 하는데, 너 진짜 바보야. 나 지금 엄청 짜증 나거든." [4]
Grace blanched, unused to seeing Simon this way, and completely at a loss as to how to respond. "I won't touch it?" he guessed.
That must have been right, because Simon nodded once, and then was out the door before Grace could even blink.
Grace sank onto the couch, utterly confused and with no idea how to proceed. He had thought he and Simon were getting along. And maybe they still were. For all Grace knew, Simon had just given a lecture on art history. He didn't think so. But he had no way of knowing for sure.
He sighed heavily, shaking his head to clear it.
He had to find a way to apologize to Simon. For … whatever he'd fluffed up.
1. "Why the hell is this in the trash, Grace?"; 2. "Beloved Idiot, this plant isn't dead. It is dying because you refuse to water it."; 3. "Don't touch that." 4. "Don't touch it. I'm going on a run. I love you, but you're an idiot, and you're pissing me off." [Many thanks to allhail-lordzuko on Tumblr for Korean translations!]
---Simon---
Simon's thoughts tumbled over each other as he ran, the steady rhythm of his feet hitting soil beginning to calm his anger.
He threw it away.
A perfectly good plant that was just in need of some water and time, and Grace had ignored it and then threw it in the trash at the first opportunity. The nerve. To take a living thing and just throw it in the trash like it didn't matter. Like it was expendable.
Like Simon had been to the C.O.I. Like Grace had been to Earth.
How did Grace not understand? How could he be so callous and uncaring? Simon had given him a gift - the most precious gift he could imagine. Sure, they had plenty of plants in the greenhouse, now, but that didn't mean that any one of them was expendable. Simon knew each plant like his own child. Giving one of them away had been… a big deal.
And Grace had thrown it away.
Maybe it was Grace's way of rejecting Simon. Telling him that he didn't value Simon the way Simon valued him. Maybe it was meant to let him down easy.
But if that was the case, why did he accept the gift in the first place? Why didn't he just give it back to Simon? Why throw it away?
Simon knew it was unfair to yell at Grace in Korean, but he also knew how mean he could get when he was angry. Better to switch languages so that, if he said something he'd regret, at least Grace wouldn't understand it. Besides. It reminded him of how his mother would slip into her native tongue when she was angry. It made him feel close to her, in an odd way.
As he reached the far end of the biodome, Simon slowed to a stop, and flopped down on the grass to rest for a moment. He didn't really need the break, but Grace was unlikely to find him here, so it was a safe place to think.
How could the movie have been so wrong?
Patrick Verona had straight up betrayed Kat Stratford's trust. But in the movie, he'd shown up with a gift of a guitar, and Kat had ended up kissing him. And while Simon wasn't 100% sure, he was pretty certain the movie was implying that everything was okay and they were together.
Simon had wracked his brain for days, trying to come up with the perfect gift. It had to be something important. Something significant. Something that showed how much Simon cared. In the end, the only thing that made sense was a plant. Lots of movies showed lovers giving each other flowering plants - often already dead ones. Surely, a live plant was more meaningful? And a sprout, obviously to signify the new beginning of their romantic relationship.
Simon couldn't understand where he went wrong.
But, it was getting late, and they'd need to eat soon. And Grace was a terrible cook. Simon snorted. He might be mad at Grace, but not mad enough to make the scientist eat his own cooking.
Simon dusted himself off and started back to the house.
---Grace---
Back at the house, Grace was desperately trying to fix whatever he had fluffed up earlier. But, without fully understanding what that was, he had just started by cleaning.
Grace knew that Simon preferred to keep his spaces neat and tidy, and that Grace's chaotic housekeeping drove the man bonkers. So, he'd started by tidying up. Everything that had been on the floor was now either in the laundry basket, the trash can, or the doom box that he would sort…someday. He had cleared the tables and countertops, and wiped them down. He'd even folded his Earth quilt neatly on the couch. He had thought about catching up on the dishes, too, but that would've required moving the plant pot, and he was pretty sure he was not supposed to do that. So, instead, he stacked the dishes next to the sink, ready to be washed when the sink was available again. As he looked around, he thought the space looked pretty good, but it still didn't feel like enough.
Ooh. Dinner. He could surprise Simon by having dinner ready when he returned. Somewhere in the past two years, Simon had taken on the bulk of the cooking. That had to be exhausting. Grace was sure he'd appreciate a night off.
Humming to himself, certain that this time, he'd figured out how to fix whatever it was, Grace started pulling ingredients and throwing things together in the pot. He'd decided on a goulash, something Simon had made several times and looked super easy.
It was not super easy.
By the time Simon arrived home, the me-meat was a burned mess, the noodles were still crunchy, and something was smoking. Grace had turned off all the heat and was sitting at the table openly sobbing when Simon walked in.
Simon stopped in the doorway, taking in the scene before him. He sighed, muttering something under his breath that still sounded like Korean, and dove in to fixing the mess in the kitchen.
20 minutes later, they somehow had an edible dinner. Not as good as usual - the burned meat couldn't really be unburned, but it was palatable enough. Grace sat across from Simon, silently trying to read his carefully stoic face. Simon looked like he was barely containing his rage, and seeing that, Grace had to bite back more tears. He looked away, quickly finishing his food, and putting his plate on the counter next to the sink. True to his word, he still had not touched the plant in the sink.
"I'll … uh… I'll wash up in a little bit. I've… uh… got a little headache from the smoke earlier. I'm gonna take something and lay down for a bit."
---Simon---
Simon watched the blonde man disappear, and wondered, not for the first time, what the fuck Grace was thinking. Burned meat. Underdone pasta. Zero seasoning. And now a black scorch mark to scrub off of the wall above the stove. Why would Grace waste food like that, just to make a point? And what point was he trying to make? That he didn't need Simon? Because if that had been the goal, he'd failed miserably.
Simon had done his best to save the meal, but it really was barely edible. Maybe one step above the Taumeba slime they'd been reduced to on the way to Erid. But even that was debatable.
Finishing his second helping (it may not have been tasty, but it was still food), Simon put his dish on top of Ryland's. He went to get his headphones from the table in the living room, only to find the table empty, and his headphones nowhere in sight. His head fell backward in frustration, and he silently asked the ceiling why Grace had chosen today to finally tidy up.
Fuck it. He'd just listen to his podcast at full volume. Grace could deal.
Simon pulled up the next episode of the latest nature podcast he was working through, and began cleaning the wreck that was the kitchen, starting with pulling the plant from the sink and setting it on a plate on the windowsill. About ten minutes in, something caught his attention. He stopped scrubbing for a moment, and just listened. Suddenly, all his confusion and anger began to wash away. He paused the podcast, and went to gently knock on the bedroom door.
"Ryland? Sunshine? Can I come in?"
"Oh. We're back to English, are we?" Grace's sarcasm was palpable.
"We are. I think I figured something out. I think we should talk about it, but I don't want to make your headache worse."
Grace groaned softly, "I don't have a headache, Simon. I'm just… avoiding you until I figure out what I did and how to fix it. Which, admittedly, is starting to give me a headache, but that's not.. I didn't have one… Anyway. I'm okay to talk…"
"Ryland, we're like orcas and humans and fish."
For once in his life, Grace was actually speechless. He blinked slowly, mouth hanging open, and sat up on the edge of the bed. He tilted his head almost 45 degrees to the left, as though Simon might make more sense at a different angle. It reminded Simon of the foxes Ryland was so fond of, and had shown him videos of pretty early in their time together. In spite of himself, Simon felt a grin pull at the edges of his mouth. Confused Ryland was so dang cute.
Simon came in and sat next to Ryland on the edge of the bed, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.
"I was just listening to my podcast," he began.
"I kinda heard," Grace cut in, the sarcasm still thick.
"Were you listening to it, though? Or just annoyed at the noise?" Simon asked, trying to keep the edge out of his voice, and mostly succeeding.
"…mostly ignoring it," Ryland admitted.
"Okay, so orcas. I don't know exactly what they are or what they look like, but apparently they're like fish, but not fish because they're mammals, but they look like big fish and live in the ocean and breathe oxygen and have live births?"
Ryland nodded, still confused about where this was going.
"Well, every once in awhile, orcas will come up to boats and just drop a dead fish on the deck. Scientists don't understand why, but they've observed it all over the world. And some people have said that if they throw the fish back, the orcas seem offended and leave the area. But. If they make a big deal of showing the orcas that they are keeping the fish, then the orcas will swim alongside them for awhile."
Ryland's face was a picture of confusion. "That's cool, Si, but… what does that have to do with us?"
Simon suppressed a sigh. Ryland really was a dumbass sometimes. "Ry. We keep giving each other fish and then getting offended when the other person doesn't want the fish."
"The plant," understanding began to dawn on Grace's face. "The plant was supposed to be a nice gift?"
"The nicest gift I could think to give. But you don't like plants like I do. I might as well have dropped a stinky dead fish on you."
Ryland laughed, "I mean. A plant is better than a dead fish, but yeah. It felt like you were handing me a chore. I can't even remember to take care of myself. And it's not like plants can tell me when they're hungry or thirsty or whatever. Plants give me anxiety, honestly. I didn't think about how important they are to you. I'm sorry."
Simon sighed, "That's okay. I think I messed up, too. Dinner was also a gift, wasn't it?"
Ryland nodded, then huffed, "Not as nice a gift as I'd intended, but yeah. You always cook. I was trying to give you the night off. I know how annoying it can be to have to cook every single night. It's why I ate ramen most nights, back on earth."
Simon smiled, softly, "See. That's the thing, though. I like cooking. I find it relaxing. I get to be a little creative, and make something that makes you smile. And it gives me time to think."
They both sat quietly for a few moments, reflecting on all the gifts they'd tried to give each other in the last two years that might as well have been stinky dead fish.
"So. A plant? That's… kinda a big deal? I… thanks, Si. When I think about it that way, that might be the most thoughtful gift anyone's ever given me. I'm sorry I threw it away. I really feel dumb, now."
"Eh," Simon's lip quirked a little on one side, "I dunno. Maybe if we keep doing dumb shit like this, you'll finally learn Korean."
Grace punched him playfully on the shoulder. "Hey, now. I managed to learn a alien language made up of musical notes, thank you very much." He crossed his arms in mock arrogance.
"Yeah," Simon said, breaking into a full grin, "it's just the earth languages you struggle with."
They laughed together, and the tension in the room finally dissipated completely.
Ryland gently laid his head on Simon's shoulder. "Hey, Si? Why did you give me such a special gift anyway?"
Simon's cheeks flushed. "So. Um. Have you ever seen a movie called 10 Things I Hate About You?"
The look of confusion was back on Grace's face, so Simon pushed out the rest of the thought in a rush.
"The guy bought the girl a guitar and she kissed him, and I was hoping you'd like the gift enough that maybe you'd kiss me, and we could maybe be… I dunno… people who kiss each other sometimes."
For the second time that day, Grace was speechless.
"But, um… obviously, that's not how you feel, and I understand, and…"
And suddenly, Grace was kissing Simon, and it was soft, and gentle, and yet full of love and longing, and something else Simon couldn't place, yet. Especially not right now. Right now, he was right where he wanted to be.
He reached up and held Ryland's face in his hand, and just enjoyed the moment.